


'Twas the Night Before Christmas

by eternaleponine



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Clexmas 2018, F/F, Prompt: Let It Snow, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 11:53:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17022129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and Clarke is stuck at her job as a nanny to Aden, because his parents Titus and Nia are stuck in France due to a massive snowstorm that has closed the airport.  Just as she's putting him to bed, Aden's cousin Lexa shows up, and Clarke's evening takes a rather dramatic turn.





	'Twas the Night Before Christmas

"Regular story or Christmas story?" Clarke asked. 

"Christmas story," Aden answered. 

"Okay," Clarke said. She went to his bookshelf, tracing her fingers along the row of narrow spines until she came to an old Christmas classic. She pulled it out and went back to the bed, sitting on the edge of it so that he would be able to see the illustrations as she read. Her heart melted a little when he leaned into her, and she wondered how many more years of that there would be before he grew up enough to absorb the idea that Boys Don't Cuddle. Probably not many, considering how sparing his father was when it came to affection, and his mother, who had once coddled him, was now hardly ever around. Neither of them were; hence why Clarke was here on Christmas Eve instead of at home with her own family... such as it was. 

She wrapped her arm around Aden's shoulder and spread the book across both of their laps. "'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care in the hope that Saint Nicho—"

"Anybody ho-ho-home?"

Clarke nearly leapt out of her skin at the cheerful shout up the stairs. She hadn't heard the door open, and Titus had already called to say that all flights into the local airport had been canceled. They were stuck in France, and likely would be until at least tomorrow and maybe longer, depending on how long the storm lasted. So who the hell could be—

"LEXA!" Aden threw back the covers, nearly tangling his legs in the sheets in his scramble to get out of bed, and bolted for the door. Clarke reached out to catch him before he could escape the room, but her fingers grasped at the air in his wake, and she hurried to catch up. 

Her breath caught in her throat as Aden launched himself from halfway ( _maybe_ two-thirds) down the stairs and straight at the snow-covered figure standing in the foyer, and she cringed as whoever it was skidded back a few steps and crashed into the wall from the impact. "Oof!" They righted themselves and clasped their hands under Aden's butt to keep him from slipping as he wrapped around them with arms and legs like a monkey. "You're getting a little big for that," they said, and the voice was feminine... as was the name Aden had shouted, now that Clarke was thinking... and the pounding of her heart eased up just a little... 

... and then she pushed back her hood and looked past Aden up the stairs, and Clarke's heart skipped a beat.

She'd seen beautiful women before, obviously. Maybe she'd seen women more beautiful than this one... but never like this. She'd never been in the same house with one, just the two of them and a little boy that they both obviously cared about, and a whole lot of snow piling up outside so there was no escaping.

She knew she ought to say something, but she just stood frozen a few steps from the top, one hand on the bannister and the other on the wall, staring. It was small consolation to note, somewhere in the back of her mind that was still capable of thinking at all, that the girl... woman... Lexa?... was equally frozen, their eyes locked on each other, unable to look away.

"Uh, Lexa? You're melting all over me," Aden said. 

Lexa dragged her gaze from Clarke to focus on the boy in her arms, who had to be getting heavy. (It had been more than a year since Clarke had been able to lift or carry him for more than a minute or two, and then only piggy-back.) She pressed a loud, smacking kiss to his cheek and set him down a few stairs up so that his bare feet didn't end up in a puddle of melted snow. 

"Ugh," he grimaced, wiping his cheek. "Dog germs!" 

Lexa laughed. "Go get your slippers and robe," she said. "You don't want the only thing you get for Christmas to be a cold, do you?"

"It's not the _only_ thing," Aden said. "I _know_ you brought presents!" 

Lexa raised an eyebrow. "Did I?" she asked. "If you aren't good, you won't find out, will you? Slippers and robe."

Aden stuck his tongue out at her and turned to go up the stairs. It was only then that he seemed to remember that Clarke existed. "'Scuse me," he said, brushing past her. "The Grinch says I need slippers." He rolled his eyes dramatically but padded down the hall to his room.

"They're in your closet," Clarke called after him. "He never wears them," she added to Lexa, descending a few steps. 

"I know," Lexa said. "But it's worth a shot, right?" She smiled, and Clarke's heart skipped another beat. "Sorry to barge in on you like this without warning. I'm Lexa." She held out a gloved hand, then quickly withdrew it to pull off the glove before offering it again. 

"Clarke." She came the rest of the way down the stairs to take it, and she wasn't sure which of them was holding on, and whether it was intentional or whether both of them didn't want to seem rude by being the first to let go, but the touch lingered far longer than an average handshake. 

"I know who you are," Lexa said. "Aden talks about you all the time." 

Clarke opened her mouth, then closed it again. She wasn't sure how to tell Lexa that although Aden talked about her, too, Clarke had assumed that she was some kind of imaginary friend, since there was no evidence of her actual existence in the house, despite Aden's claim that Lexa was his cousin and that she lived here when she wasn't in school.

Lexa's expression went stiff and her eyes dimmed. "Right," she said softly. 

"I'm going to go check on..." Clarke gestured over her shoulder, already half-turned to go see what was taking Aden so long. 

"Right," Lexa said again, and turned her attention to removing her boots and coat and hat and scarf and all the other layers that had insulated her against the cold. 

Clarke went to Aden's room and found the floor littered with shoes that he'd tossed out of the closet. He looked up at her, scowling. "They're not here!" he said. 

"They're not?" Clarke asked, picking her way through the mess. "That's strange. I thought for sure that I saw them in here just this morning..." She nudged one of them with her toe; its mate was right next to it, and they were both right in front of Aden's face. If they had been bears, they would have bit him, as her dad used to say. 

"Oh." At least Aden had the good grace to look sheepish. "Thanks."

"Put them on, then put the rest of the shoes away," Clarke said. 

"But—" Aden started, looking toward the door, but stopped at Clarke's Look. " _Fine_."

"When you're done, you can come downstairs for a little while, even though it's past bedtime," Clarke added. 

"Eight o'clock is a baby bedtime anyway," Aden said. "I'm not a baby. I'm _seven_."

"So you keep reminding me," Clarke said. "And seven-year-olds already know how to clean up after themselves, right?"

Aden nodded, and the pile of shoes was back in the closet... neatly after Clarke cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows at him... in record time. He wrapped himself in his fleecy Spider-Man robe and put on his slippers, and Clarke watched him as he picked his way around the icy puddles in the foyer. She hesitated before following him down, but it was her job to watch him, especially around strangers, and even though Aden clearly knew Lexa, and even though she obviously had a key, as far as Clarke was concerned she was still an unsolved element in this equation.

"Lexa, where'd you go?" Aden called.

"In the kitchen," she called back. "I may or may not be making hot cocoa..."

"Yessss!" Aden cheered, skidding over hardwood floors and area rugs to get to her. Clarke followed behind more slowly, feeling suddenly out of place in the house where she spent more of her time than her own apartment. She wasn't _quite_ a live-in nanny, but she suspected it was only because she couldn't commit to being here 24/7 because of her classes. If she was willing to make this her full-time job, she was pretty sure that it would be hers for the asking. 

"I went to the grocery store," Lexa said, more to Clarke than to Aden, "on my way here. It was pretty picked over, between Christmas and the storm, but I figured they probably keep the kitchen well-stocked anyway. I just..." She shrugged. "I hope it's all right that I'm here."

"Of course it's all right," Aden said. "It's _Christmas_!" He hopped up on his little step-stool, a relic from when he was younger and shorter, but it boosted him up so that he was closer to Lexa's height. "Did you get whipped cream?"

"Obviously," she said, setting a giant can of it on the counter. "What is hot cocoa without whipped cream? I also got candy canes. Do you want to use them to stir, or crush them up to sprinkle on?" 

"Crush them! Crush them!" Aden said. "I want to do the crushing!" 

"I'm shocked," Lexa said, deadpan, flashing a wink at Clarke. "We need a plastic baggie and a rolling pin." She opened the package of candy canes and took one out, unwrapping it and depositing it into the baggie that Aden offered. She sealed it up and then put it on the counter, and let Aden go to town crushing it and rolling over it until it was little fragments of peppermint dust. 

"Do you want some?" Lexa asked as she pulled mugs from the cupboard... and Clarke tried to squash the unsettled feeling that rose up when she knew exactly where they were kept. She almost said no, just because she didn't know how to feel about how easily Lexa slotted herself into the household and how blasé she was about disrupting its routine, but it seemed rude to decline the offer, and since when had she ever said no to chocolate in any form? So she nodded, and Lexa set down a third mug.

When they were finished, there were three mugs of cocoa lined up, whipped cream piled high and sprinkled with bits of pulverized candy cane. Clarke reached to take her mug – the one she always used – and her hand collided with Lexa's. They both jerked back like they'd been shocked. 

"That's my—" they both started to say, and then just stared at each other. Clarke rubbed her fingers together, trying to erase the feeling of Lexa's skin against hers, her cheeks flushing slightly as the image of her lips touching somewhere that Lexa's lips had been... and then of Lexa's lips touching hers... flashed through her mind. "You take it," she said quickly, and grabbed the third mug, which she had never seen anyone use. She brought it to her lips, letting the heat of the liquid burn away other, imagined sensations.

"Careful," they both said when Aden's mug nearly sloshed over as he grabbed it, and then looked at each other, not quite glaring but not quite friendly, either. 

"Why don't you sit at the table?" Clarke suggested. 

Aden scrunched up his face. "The table is _boring_ ," he said. "I want to sit in the living room. It's more comfy. And we can turn on the tree!"

Clarke glanced at Lexa, who lifted one shoulder and let it fall, deferring to Clarke to make the decision, she supposed. "Give me your cocoa," Clarke said. "I'll carry it." She took the mug carefully from him and watched as he bounded into the living room – or the _family_ room, she guessed; the living room was hardly ever used – and flopped down on the couch.

"Alexa," he called, then giggled, "turn on the Christmas tree! And the fire! Alexa, turn on the fire!"

Lexa rolled her eyes and sighed. "Thanks, Amazon," she grumbled. "And 'turn on the fire'... ugh. You don't 'turn on' a fire. You light it. With matches. And wood." 

Clarke pressed her lips together to keep from smiling, although she wasn't sure why. She had no reason to dislike this girl (except that she'd come in and disrupted Aden's bedtime routine, but it _was_ Christmas Eve, and what kid really slept then anyway?) so why hold back? And she agreed about the gas fireplace; it was pretty enough, she guessed, and it kept things warm, but couldn't hold a candle – no pun intended – to the real thing.

Clarke set Aden's cocoa on the coffee table in front of him. "Be careful," she said. "If you spill, you're cleaning it up."

He heaved a sigh. "I _know_ ," he said. "Lexa, sit next to me!" 

Clarke watched as Lexa sat, tucking her feet up under herself, and settled herself in a chair that didn't face her head on, but let her watch her out of the corner of her eye without being obvious about it. She could always pretend she was watching Aden, which was her job, after all. 

"How come you never come home anymore?" Aden asked. "It's been _forever_." 

"I know," Lexa said, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "But I call you every week!" 

"It's not the _same_ ," Aden said. "Dad says you're busy with school, but you didn't even come home for the summer, except for one week, and there's not even school in the summer!"

Lexa shrugged. "There is when you get older," she said. 

Aden groaned. "Then I am _never_ getting older," he said. 

"Whatever you say, Peter," Lexa teased, and Aden stuck his tongue out at her. "I wish I could come home more, too," she said. "There's just a lot of things that I have to do." Her eyes crinkled at the corners, but not because she was smiling, and Clarke could see the tense set of her jaw. There was more to the story than she was letting on, but it wasn't really Clarke's business, and she wouldn't ask in front of Aden anyway, because it was obvious Lexa didn't want him to know.

Aden scooted over on the couch until he was pressed solidly against Lexa's side, his head resting on her shoulder as he looked up at her. "But none of them are more important than _me_ ," he said. "You missed my _birthday_."

"I know," Lexa said. Her eyes shut tight as she looked down, resting her forehead against Aden's. "I'm sorry, bud. I am. I just..." She sighed. "Did you at least get my present?"

"Yes," Aden said. "I wrote you a thank you note, didn't I? Mom made me." He rolled his eyes dramatically and picked up his cocoa, then burrowed even closer into her as he took a sip. When he lowered it again, there was whipped cream on his nose. 

Lexa reached for a tissue to wipe it off, but Clarke held up her hand. "Don't," she said. "Let me get a picture." Lexa looked at her, surprised, and then a small smile curved her lips. "Just a sec," she said, and then took a sip of her own cocoa, making sure to get whipped cream on her own nose. She pressed her cheek to Aden's. "Okay, _now_ you can take the picture," she said. 

Clarke laughed and did so, taking a few more as Aden looked at her and, realizing what she'd done, dissolved into a fit of giggles, and then another as Lexa dabbed his face clean, then her own. She half-listened as Aden got her caught up on all of the second grade drama (most of which she had already heard), but most of her attention was on Lexa, watching the way her expression changed, all smiles and warmth when Aden was looking at her or talking about school, but shifting to something both harder and more brittle every time he mentioned his parents, and especially his mother. 

When the cocoa was gone, Clarke looked at the clock. Over an hour had passed, and now it really was time for Aden to go to bed. He must have seen her looking because he stuck out his lower lip in a pout. "Please?" he said. "Just five more minutes?" 

Lexa's eyes flicked to her, but before Clarke could say anything, she wrapped her arm around Aden's shoulders and squeezed. "Come on," she said. "I'll go with you."

_Leaving me to clean up your mess._ Clarke bristled, the words, 'I am not a fucking maid,' on the tip of her tongue, but she bit them back, because she didn't want to upset Aden by arguing with his cousin, who he clearly adored. "Don't forget to brush your teeth again," she said, and wondered if Lexa caught the snarl behind the sweetness. 

"I won't," Aden said. "Are you going to come tuck me in when you're done?"

"I think Lexa is going to do that," Clarke said. 

Aden frowned. "But..."

"We'll _both_ tuck you in," Lexa said. "Come on. I bet I can brush my teeth faster than you." 

"Brushing teeth is not a race," Clarke said, glaring at Lexa. "Two minutes, and make sure to get all of them."

"I will," Aden said. He let go of Lexa to throw his arms around Clarke, then went and got his mug and Lexa's. "Gotta clean up first, right?"

"Right," Clarke said, grateful that at least _one_ of the cousins had some manners, and carried her own mug to the kitchen... where she realized there were still groceries in bags on the floor. She swallowed a growl and sent Aden off to go start his bedtime routine all over again.

By the time she got upstairs, Aden was already in bed, and Lexa was sitting next to him in Clarke's place, the book she had interrupted earlier spread out in front of them, her voice pitched soft and sweet as she read. Even though he had probably heard the story a hundred times before, Aden's attention was focused on Lexa like a laser, like somehow when _she_ read it, it was new and wonderful. Clarke tried not to let it get to her, but it did, just a little. 

When she finished, Lexa reached for the book on the nightstand, the one that Clarke and Aden had been making their way through chapter by chapter, and Clarke's knuckles were white as she gripped the door frame, resisting the urge to snatch hit from her long... elegant... fingers. She clenched her jaw until her teeth ached as Lexa opened to where they'd left off and began to read, feeling a little like she was having some kind of out-of-body experience as the simmering anger rapidly came to a boil in her gut.

"But Lexa, that's not how he sounds!" Aden said, his voice snapping Clarke back into reality. "You're doing the voice wrong!" He bit his lip. "I mean... that's just not how Clarke does it." 

And the boiling stopped as quickly as if the gas had been switched off underneath it... although from the look in Lexa's eyes, maybe Aden had just changed which burner was going. "I'm sorry," she said. "Maybe we should read something else?"

Aden shook his head, his hair flopping into his eyes. Clarke was sure that as soon as his mom saw it, she would take him straight to the barber to get it trimmed back, but she personally thought it was cute. "You can't just stop in the middle of a chapter!" he protested.

"We're not in the middle of a chapter," Lexa said. "We're still on the first page."

"Well maybe Clarke can finish it," Aden said, looking at her hopefully. 

"I would be happy to," Clarke said, stepping into the room and plucking the book from Lexa's fingers. Maybe she imagined it, but Lexa seemed reluctant to let go. She sat down on Aden's other side and settled back, starting the chapter over so that Aden could hear it the right way this time. 

By the time she reached the end of the chapter, his eyelids were drooping, despite the dose of sugar he'd gotten with the cocoa. She tucked the bookmark in place and leaned down to brush back his hair and kiss his forehead. "Good night," she said. "Sleep tight. Don't let the Christmas bugs bite." 

He wriggled his arms out from under the covers and wrapped them around her, hugging her tight and for a long time. "I'm glad you're here," he whispered. 

Clarke closed her eyes against the sudden wash of tears. "I'm glad I'm here too," she said. _I love you,_ she didn't say, even though she wanted to, because it was a line she never crossed, even though she wondered if he ever heard it from anyone else. 

She stepped back so Lexa could have her turn, and she didn't hear what the other girl whispered to him, only what she said as they each tucked the blankets tight around him, which was, "Sweet dreams." 

"Don't forget the night light," he mumbled, and Clarke switched it on, watching the stars it scattered around the room for a moment before closing the door – all but a crack – behind them and padding softly down the stairs. 

She could feel as much as hear Lexa behind her, and once they were safely out of Aden's earshot, she turned on her. "Let's get one thing straight," she said. "I'm not—" She stopped abruptly at the way Lexa's face twisted, like she was trying not to laugh. "Oh, this is _funny_?" Clarke demanded. "You think it's _funny_ to just barge in here and disrupt everything, to treat me like I'm your servant? Because I am not a housekeeper, or a maid, or—"

She hadn't realized that she'd been advancing on Lexa, and that Lexa had been backing up, until Lexa's back collided with the bannister and Clarke found herself only inches away from her, so close that she could feel the heat coming off her body. She probably could have felt Lexa's breath on her face... lips... if she'd been breathing, but she wasn't.

So her voice was choked when she said, "You need... to step... back."

Clarke should have done it immediately. She knew she should have, but she had a stubborn streak a mile wide and could hold a grudge longer than God, so she stayed put. "No," she said, as calmly as she could even though her heart was racing and every nerve in her body felt like it was on high alert. "You need me to step back. There's a difference."

Lexa's hands splayed out at her sides, and she was completely still for a second, her eyes fixed on Clarke's. Then she pushed away from the wall, the movement fast enough that her body pressed against Clarke's for a second before Clarke could stumble back. 

They faced each other, fists clenched, chests heaving, neither one of them willing to back down. 

And then her lips were against Lexa's, or Lexa's were against hers, she wasn't sure who initiated it or if they both did, and there was nothing soft about the kiss, nothing sweet or tender. It was nipping teeth and clashing tongues and Lexa was backed up against the bannister again, but she didn't seem to mind so much this time, if the way her fingers hooked into Clarke's belt loops and dragged their hips together was any indication. 

The world narrowed to just the two of them, just two bodies grabbing and grinding against each other, and Clarke started to see sparkling dots at the edges of her vision as the need for more oxygen than she could get with her mouth firmly adhered to Lexa's built. Finally they had to break apart, gulping in air, and Clarke's mind cleared along with her vision and she made herself let go and step back. "I can't," she said, shaking her head, not quite able to make eye contact. "Aden..."

Lexa's lips were still parted and Clarke watched as her mouth opened a little more like she was going to say something, but then it closed again, those lips, pink and slightly swollen from kissing, pressing together as she nodded, just the tiniest lift and dip of her chin. "You're right," she said softly. "I shouldn't have—" She made her lips curve into something resembling a smile. "It's been a long day," she said. "I'm just going to go to my room, I think. Good night." 

"I'll check on Aden," Clarke said, more to herself than to Lexa because she had grabbed her bags and was already halfway up the stairs.

Clarke followed her, her step light so as not to risk waking Aden as she crept to his room. She nudged the door open a little farther and peered in. His eyes didn't automatically pop open, so either he was doing a very good job of acting like he was asleep, or he was actually asleep. Either way, she would take it. 

She considered going back downstairs to make sure there wasn't anything left to clean up, then decided it didn't matter. Titus and Nia wouldn't be back until tomorrow at the soonest, and based on the last weather reports she'd seen, probably not even then. It would just be the three of them for Christmas, and she didn't think any of them cared if there was a dish or two out of place.

Anyway, Lexa was right; it had been a long day. Keeping Aden busy for the entire day when he was so amped up about Christmas and snow – and trying to keep his mind off the fact that his parents weren't going to be there – had proven to be more exhausting than she could have imagined. She decided to just go to bed. Even if she didn't sleep, she could read or text with her school friends, or...

She almost collided with Lexa in her bedroom doorway. Or, well, not _her_ bedroom, technically, but the room that she slept in when she stayed the night. The guest room. "What are you—" they both said at the same time, and then Lexa looked up, blinking hard. "Never mind," she said, turning her shoulders to edge past Clarke. "It's all yours."

"Of course it—" Clarke stopped, realization hitting her and sinking in, coating her chest and gut in a layer of ice like when you took a drink of really cold water on a hot day and could feel it going all the way down. "This is your room," she said. "I thought it was a guest—"

"It is," Lexa said. "Why would I have a room? I don't live here anymore."

Clarke expected bitterness. Instead, what she heard was resignation. Like Lexa had known already that this was how things would be, but she'd let herself hope, just a little, that she might be surprised. She couldn't even really be disappointed because she'd seen it coming a mile away. 

"Why?" Clarke asked. She knew she shouldn't; it as none of her business, for one, and for another, it would just dig the knives that pricked and sliced at Lexa in a little deeper. But the alternative was letting Lexa walk away, letting her go downstairs, and for all she knew, out the door. The snow was coming down faster and Clarke hadn't heard a plow come by in ages; it wouldn't be safe for her to go out on the roads again. She didn't _seem_ like the reckless type, and she cared enough about Aden not to let him wake up on Christmas morning to find her gone... didn't she? 

Clarke stepped through the doorway into her – their – _Lexa's_ room, making room for her to come back in if she wanted to. Lexa's weight shifted forward, just a little, but then she rocked back on her heels and shook her head. "It's not a good idea."

"Why not?" Clarke asked. "It's just a question."

"You still have to live with them."

"I don't live here," Clarke said. 

"You still have to work for them, then. It's better..." Lexa shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut a little longer and harder than just a blink. When she opened them, they were damp with tears she refused to shed and the most brilliant green Clarke had ever seen. 

"Please," Clarke said, taking a step closer, and she could see Lexa weighing her options, trying to decide whether or not to let Clarke in, lists of pros and cons forming in orderly columns in her mind, and Clarke could be patient when she wanted to be, but here, now, with the taste of this girl and all of her secrets still on her lips, she didn't want to be.

Lexa's breath caught as Clarke stepped into her space, but she didn't back up, and Clarke didn't back down, and Lexa's hands were on her hips, then the small of her back, and her lips brushed Clarke's as she whispered, "I don't want your pity."

Clarke squirmed, inwardly and maybe a little outwardly, heat building between her thighs, and this was a terrible idea, maybe the worst idea she'd ever had (and she'd had plenty of bad ideas...) but a little part of her thought maybe it didn't have to be, so she closed the tiny gap between their mouths, sealing them together. This time the kiss was everything the one before – was it only minutes ago? – hadn't been. Soft and sweet and tender, a give and take rather than a battle, and Clarke felt it all through her body when the tip of Lexa's tongue traced her lower lip, and then met her own tongue in a delicate caress. 

She slid one hand under the back of Lexa's flannel shirt and the soft, clinging material – camisole or tank top, Clarke hoped she would soon find out – underneath, and pressed her fingers into the curve of her lower spine, her skin hot and slightly damp with sweat, and Clarke wondered what other parts of her might be getting wet...

She broke the kiss long enough to mutter, "Door..." and Lexa kicked it shut with her heel, reaching back with one hand to twist the lock while the other tangled in Clarke's hair, cradling the back of her skull as they kissed... and kissed... and kissed...

Clarke popped the button on Lexa's jeans before it occurred to her to tackle the ones down the front of her shirt and she had to backtrack. If they were going to do this... and she was pretty sure at this point that they _were_ going to do this... they should at least do it right.

Lexa's fingers teasing under her sweater, up her side and down her ribs and over her belly, made it hard to focus on one button at a time, and when the tips dipped under her waistband, low and then lower, Clarke shuddered and had to stop, just gripping the material of Lexa's shirt until she withdrew, having done nothing and everything to set Clarke aflame. Clarke finished the last few buttons with trembling hands and pushed the flannel back on her shoulders and down her arms and off. Lexa's nipples strained against the tight black camisole, and she wasn't wearing a bra underneath. 

Revenge was sweet, Clarke decided, as she kissed along Lexa's collarbone and down her sternum, breathing open-mouthed against her breasts and flicking her tongue over the tempting nubs that taunted her through the cloth, then lifted the hem and continued her descent, kneeling to drag her lips and tongue down Lexa's taut abdomen. She eased her zipper down, and then tugged jeans and underwear down her ships, just a little, before standing again, raising an eyebrow as if to say, 'Your move.'

Lexa licked her lips, and then gripped the hem of Clarke's sweater and pulled it up and off, tossing it over the back of a chair and pulling their bodies flush against each other to kiss her, hot and passionate and maybe just a little bit sloppy, but Clarke was far past the point of caring. 

Her tank top followed, and then her bra and Lexa's camisole, and Clarke moaned as almost as one they wrapped their arms around each other and pulled each other in. Lexa's skin was like silk against her own, and Clarke wanted more of it. She wanted _all_ of it, and she wanted it ten minutes ago.

Jeans pooled at their feet and socks were left behind when they stepped out of them before they could trip, and they tumbled onto the bed with only their panties left, and Lexa's were adorable penguin-patterned boy shorts and Clarke's heart was added to the list of things that Lexa had turned liquid in her, even as she peeled them down her hips and thighs and dropped them off the side of the bed. Clarke's quickly followed, and for a second all either of them could do was stare.

"Holy..." Clarke breathed.

"You're so..." Lexa answered.

And then there were no more words because their mouths were busy, panting and moaning when they weren't kissing, not just lips but all over, throats and bellies and breasts and fingertips and ankles and elbows and inner thighs and there... and there... and _there_ , and Clarke's back arched as Lexa's tongue found her clit, quick flicks and soothing strokes and suction, and she came so hard she had to clamp her jaw shut to keep from crying out loud enough that the neighbors might have heard, never mind Aden down the hall.

Lexa's body molded around hers, cradling her as she came back down, and Clarke kissed the taste of herself from Lexa's lips because not kissing her wasn't even remotely an option. "You're so..." she echoed, and Lexa smiled, the first time she'd done so for Clarke and Clarke alone, and Clarke knew that she would do just about anything to make it happen again, as many times as she could in whatever time they had.

... which was a thought she shoved down deep because she wasn't going to let herself thinking about the end of something that had barely begun. She didn't even know yet what Lexa looked like, what sounds she made, when she finally surrendered to her desires and let herself lose control...

She didn't have to wait long to find out. Maybe it was all the build-up, or maybe Lexa was just that sensitive, but it seemed as if Clarke had barely begun to touch her before she was shaking her way through climax, and it seemed almost unfair that it was so easy, so she buried her tongue between Lexa's legs and commanded a second. 

When she could move again, Lexa rolled so that her back was to Clarke, and for a second Clarke worried that she'd done something wrong until Lexa pushed back so she was in Clarke's arms, their bodies spooned against each other, and Lexa caught one of Clarke's hands and kissed it. They were quiet for a long time, catching their breath and letting their heartrates return to a slower, steadier pace.

"My parents died," Lexa said softly, "when I was twelve." Her lips brushed Clarke's hand again, and Clarke answered by kissing the back of her shoulder. "He'd been married to Nia for a while, and they'd been trying to have a baby but were told it wasn't likely because they're both older. So they agreed to take me in. I didn't have anywhere else to go. But almost as soon as the papers were signed, Nia found out she was pregnant.

"I don't know if she started trying to convince Titus right away, or if she waited, if it was because it was a difficult pregnancy and I was a difficult kid, or..." Lexa sighed. "When school started the next year, I was sent away to boarding school. Nia said it would just be too much to handle, an infant and a teenager. I went from school to summer camp back to school. I only got to see Aden during the few weeks of the year when they couldn't find somewhere else to send me. Now it's college, and Titus makes sure there's always a summer internship or something to keep me away, so..." 

"I'm sorry," Clarke said. "That's horrible." She couldn't imagine what it would be like to not just feel, but _know_ you're unwanted. She'd never experienced either; her parents had always made her feel like the center of their world, and in many ways, she had been. Things were different now, without her dad, but she and her mother were at least trying to figure out what being a family meant when it was just the two of them. 

Lexa rolled over, and Clarke loosened her grip to let her do it, then wrapped her arms around her again, stroking her fingers along her spine. "I love Aden," Lexa said. "I try to see him and talk to him as much as I can, but I have to go around Nia. She thinks I'm going to ruin him or something." One corner of her mouth curved up. "I was actually glad when Titus told me they'd gotten him a nanny; it gave me hope that he might have someone in his life who is more interested in him as a person than a fashion accessory."

"I love him too," Clarke said. "He's an awesome kid."

The other corner of Lexa's mouth shifted to match the first, and Clarke kissed her quickly, sealing the smile in place... and if Lexa was going to say more about the past it would have to wait...

* * *

"Clarke, look," Lexa said, and Clarke turned her head to follow her gaze to the clock on the beside table. 12:01 am. "It's Christmas."

Clarke looked back at her. "Merry Christmas," she whispered, and kissed her again. "Sorry I didn't get you anything." 

Lexa laughed, a soft sound that warmed Clarke all the way through, starting with her heart. "You gave me everything," she said. 

"Do you think so?" Clarke asked, eyebrows raised, and Lexa laughed again, and Clarke started to giggle too, and it turned into tickling to keep the laughter going, which turned into wrestling, which turned into Clarke proving that there were still one or two things she could give Lexa...

"We should put on pajamas," Clarke grumbled, not wanting to move and not wanting to lose the ability to touch Lexa wherever she wanted, whenever she wanted, with nothing to get in her way. "You know Aden will wake us up at the crack of dawn."

"We'll be lucky if we get all the way 'til dawn," Lexa said. She kissed Clarke lightly, then rolled out of bed to grab her bag and started to laugh again. She turned to look at Clarke, who pulled an old t-shirt from the drawer she'd claimed as her own when she'd started doing more overnights here and slipped it over her head. "This is why I laughed," she said, holding up her bag. "I wasn't laughing at you." 

Clarke leaned in and saw the rainbow pin attached to it, printing with the words: 'Let's get one thing straight. I'm not.' Which, she realized, was exactly what she'd said. There had been more words she'd planned to say after it, but she'd been interrupted by Lexa's smirk. "Oh," she said. "I guess I'll forgive you then... this time..." 

"I don't regret it," Lexa said. "If you hadn't gotten pissed..."

"Don't," Clarke said. "We need to get _some_ sleep."

"Do you want me to go sleep on the couch?" Lexa asked, and she was mostly teasing, but there was just the slightest hint of a genuine question in it, and Clarke knew if she said yes, Lexa would gather her things and go downstairs, no questions asked. 

"Absolutely not," Clarke said. "Just... keep your hands above the waist." 

"There's still a lot of real estate..." Lexa started, then laughed at Clarke's glare. "Okay, okay..."

They climbed back into bed, tucking themselves in under the covers and around each other, and considering they'd only known each other a few hours it probably shouldn't have felt so easy to fit their bodies together, but for once Clarke didn't feel the need to question it. 

"Merry Christmas, Clarke," Lexa murmured against her neck. Clarke squeezed her hand and kissed her fingers, too tired to even form words to respond, but they'd already discovered that they could say plenty without them.

* * *

The door rattled against the frame as the knob twisted back and forth. "Wake up!" Aden shouted. "Wake up, it's Christmas! Clarke!"

"Shit," Clarke grumbled. They'd forgotten to unlock the door, but maybe that was a good thing, because they might have remembered to put on pajamas, but they hadn't cleaned up the clothing strewn all over the room. 

"Lexa!" Aden shouted. "Wake up! I know you're in there because you're not anywhere else!" 

Lexa groaned, but she was grinning. "You get him. I'll get the mess," she said. 

"Is this... going to be a problem?" Clarke asked. "If he knows?"

"He just knows we slept in the same room," Lexa said. "Don't..." She sighed. "Just let him in before he breaks down the door." She hastily snatched up bras and underwear and everything else and shoved them into the closet, and once things were safely tucked away Clarke opened the door. 

Aden crashed into her, grappling her in a hug that she barely had a chance to return before he was barreling for the bed, clambering on top and jumping wildly, shouting, "It's Christmas! It's Christmas!" before launching himself at Lexa. 

She caught him and managed not to topple over, barely. "Are you sure?" she asked. "I think maybe you slept all the way—"

"No I didn't!" Aden said. "There is _no way_ I slept through Christmas!" 

"Fine," Lexa said. "Then it must be Christmas. Should we go see if Santa came?"

Aden rolled his eyes. "Santa is made up," he told Lexa. "But _you_ brought presents. I know, I saw them." 

"So maybe I'm Santa," Lexa said. "What do you think?"

"Is your car 8-reindeer power?" Aden asked, his face split with a lightly gap-toothed grin.

"Yup," Lexa said. "That's how I got through all the snow to be here."

He laughed, and finally loosened his grip on Lexa and slid down to stand on his own two feet. He grabbed one of their hands in each of his own and dragged them toward the door. 

"Robe and slippers," Clarke reminded him. 

"I'll go turn on the tree," Lexa said. So when Clarke and Aden got to the bottom of the stairs, they were met with the magical sight of a brightly-lit tree, glimmering with colorful lights, and the flickering of the fire. Lexa had found a Santa hat and was already rooting around under the tree, pulling out a pile of gifts for Aden to open. "You'll have to wait until your parents are home to open the ones from them," she said. "But you can open the ones from me and Clarke."

"Okay," Aden said. He tore into them, cheering as each new gift was revealed. There were lots of LEGO sets, some art supplies, a few fun t-shirts that his parents would never have bought for him because they dressed him like some kind of middle-aged country club member instead of a kid. When he was done, he hugged them both to tightly Clarke felt her ribs creak, and then opened up one of the smaller sets of LEGO that he could build by himself while they went to make breakfast.

"Look," Clarke said, pointing up when they got to the arch that only sort of separated the kitchen from the living room. A sprig of mistletoe hung above their heads. "You know what that means..."

Lexa glanced back at the living room, where Aden was completely absorbed in sorting out the little plastic bricks, and then pulled Clarke into her arms and kissed her, soft and deep, leaving Clarke sparkling as much as the tree. They stayed like that probably longer than was wise, but when they finally broke apart, Aden was still building, so it was probably all right.

"Guess what?" Aden asked, when they were all settled at the breakfast nook a little while later.

"What?" Lexa asked. 

He grinned. "I saw Cla-arke kissing Santa Claus." 

Lexa's eyes went wide. "Aden..."

"Don't worry," he said, "I won't tell anyone. They wouldn't believe me anyway, right? Because Santa's not real." And he winked, huge and exaggerated (and kind of with both eyes), and they all laughed, and Lexa leaned over and kissed Clarke again, on the cheek this time, and Clarke grabbed her hand under the table.

Aden beamed his approval, bouncing in his seat. "You know what this is?" he asked. 

"What?" Clarke asked this time.

"The Best. Christmas. Ever." 

Clarke looked at Lexa and just shrugged and smiled. Who were they to argue with a kid on Christmas?

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly this story is kind of a mess, and I had neither the time nor the energy to fix it, so please accept this as the poorly-wrapped, slightly wonky gift that it is. ♥


End file.
